[ Not that it's time to talk about it, she finds herself cobbled. Her tongue feels like it's been coated in lead. How can she take something so precious and so private, compress it, and hold it up for view and judgement? How can she convince him of the rightness of this thing?

She can't, and she knows it, but she wants to try. There is no justification for having her heart beat for the enemy... except that he is no longer the enemy. ]

Before the shipwreck, during the storm, the Captain ordered one of the young drüskelle to kill us so we could not escape. I worked even harder at my bonds and managed to free myself before the ship broke apart, but when it finally did and I looked for survivors, the only one I saw was the same drüskelle. He had disobeyed that order, and so I saved him. [ It wasn't quite that simple. He'd been dying. That had been wrong. She couldn't just let that happen. So she hadn't. ] We worked together to get to shore and from there we proceeded on foot. We saved each other's lives - many times. He's unlearning the hatred that Fjerdans are fed about Grisha. He's changed. And [ she tenses, shifting her stance slightly as if to be ready to move ] he's here too. Please, sir. Let's not bring our war with us to another planet, not when there's another way of winning it, not when he's changed.